When Kung Fu Dies
by Zamael
Summary: Throughout his entire life, Shen had difficult time choosing the right enemies. His greatest one could not be killed at all.


Starting from the day he was first able to discern his surroundings somewhat, and saw the palace grounds, lord Shen was infinitely fascinated by the training personal guard of his family. To him it looked like no more than a single person, a clearly competent antelope warrior, split into five hundred identical copies using some strange mirror image tricks, going through their (or his?) martial arts drills: swing, thrust, kick, moving fluidly at the exact same moment, not one fraction of a second behind another.

He had once tossed a small rock down there, and thought he could maybe see one of them, the one he had hit, stagger a little bit and lag behind for half a second before he could catch up again. He had been pretty certain the guy had been executed for the unforgivable transgression of breaking the masquerade, but seeing how they all looked exactly identical, and it was difficult to count if there were 499 of them now instead of the full five hundred, he was never quite sure.

Once his mind had developed out of simply being fascinated by something so simple as seeing hundreds of identical people move their spears around in patterns like mirror matches, he had developed more interest to what it was that they were actually doing: namely, martial arts. It was, he had thought, a stylish and all-around awesome way to protect him and his parents, each of them an invincible warrior in his own right. He had also decided that one day he would be a great master, and he would not _need_ hundreds of bodyguards because he could just beat up every criminal and assassin by himself!

* * *

><p>Shen was seven years old when he was finally deemed ready to begin his training. He woke up early that day, bounced on the Soothsayer's sleeping mat until she woke up as well, and impatiently fidgeted and complained about how slow she was while she made breakfast for them both, then about why she had to be so old and could not walk them to the palace grounds any faster. And then he was further dismayed to find that there was nobody down there, besides the two of them: where was his teacher?<p>

"Patience, young lord," the Soothsayer told him. "Running and yelling will not help to get your teacher here any faster than normal."

And she made him sit down and be absolutely still for nothing short of an eternity, something that was rather difficult at first. Every fiber of his body told him to do something, try to punch a brick wall into smithereens or whatever. There were so many screams of impatience and curses of his master that made him wait, just short of being unleashed. But in the end, through strange magical means he could not even begin to understand, both were silenced.

And when the Soothsayer revealed herself to be his teacher, he was of course outraged. How could this short, pudgy woman that needed a cane to get around, teach him anything at all about defending himself? Why had she made him wait all that time, when she in fact here all along? Why had he not spent the last three hours learning something so much more interesting and amazing? Why wasn't he already knowing martial arts?

The Soothsayer sighed sympathetically, and smiled at him, displaying those big buckteeth on her lower jaw that he always made fun of. "You are not here to learn martial arts, lord Shen. You are here to learn kung fu."

"What's the difference?", Shen cocked his head, perplexed.

"Martial arts is just that: martial arts. Kung fu, meanwhile, means Excellence of Self, which counts under it so many other things than simply learning to defend yourself," she explained patiently. "It will teach you patience, compassion, confidence, courage, discipline, and so many other lessons that will serve you well in life. For instance, what did I just teach you, and what am I, for that matter, finding myself to rely a lot on right now?"

It took him a little bit to find the answer, figure out that he had been taught anything at all, but eventually he tried: "...Patience?"

She nodded.

"So... when will I learn martial arts?"

"When it is time. Patience."

"From you?" She nodded again, smiling mysteriously. "What, do you even _know_ martial arts? Or is it all about patience and other sort of life lessons?"

She showed him.

For the next thirty seconds Shen could do nothing but watch, his beak dropped, as the image of a harmless nanny was utterly vaporized in front of his eyes. He had seen the palace guard before, doing their drills and already being something he could only ever hope to do one day, but now she did things they had never shown, he had never even _imagined._ She did not even need a spear: only her bare hands, or that cane she used to get around. And when she was finished, she looked back at him, and told him that when she deemed him ready, he would learn that as well. "But for that day to ever come, you must learn everything, not just how to bring harm to others, lest you only bring your own ruin."

He nodded, he sat down, and he learned, having found newfound respect for the old Soothsayer that would probably never leave him. He was no longer entirely sure what he had seen in those palace guards to begin with.

* * *

><p>Shen was fourteen years old when he realized that kung fu was not as great as he thought it to be, as well as the possibility that his parents may not love him at all as much as he was living in the impression of.<p>

If there was ever a time his parents let him out from the palace grounds, it was with a dozen wolf guards and the Soothsayer, and they would never take him anywhere fun. Somewhere to eat, perhaps, or to examine some new clothes or jewelry, perhaps for a birthday: safe, uneventful, and utterly mind-numbingly boring. Just enough to let him catch a glimpse at all the interesting people and places he could investigate, to titillate his curiousity and smell the forbidden fruit, yet never actually allowed to explore them.

Why had the Soothsayer taught him kung fu if not for this? What was the point of knowing how to defend himself if he had nothing to defend against? Why did everybody still behave like he was some stupid kid unable to handle himself out there? If he ever asked any of these questions from his parents, or the Soothsayer, or basically anyone at all except for the Boss Wolf, all he would get was inane truisms such as "You will understand when you're older," or "You should learn to not look for fights," or, his old favourite, "Patience."

It was only natural that one day his patience would end, and it ended in one warm summer evening in the middle of the year of the pig, when the Soothsayer had given him a task of meditation and peace, instead of going out there and having fun. And so, as soon as she left him alone, he snuck outside to the yard, over the stone wall, and into Gongmen City. He had his cunning and intelligence, he had his courage and confidence, he was disguised in common, plain and unremarkable clothing, and he had kung fu: his master had finally begun teaching him the real important stuff some years ago.

Even further, if none of that would be enough, the Boss Wolf had given him something else for a little extra edge...

No one saw him ascend the wall, or glide down and into the city, and by the time he touched the ground, he was just another normal kid out to have good time. First half a minute was spent simply basking in his newfound freedom, intimidated by the mind-boggling number of options he had on what to do next, slightly scared and thinking about going back, until, at last, he saw a particularly fancy and colourful sign and decided to explore what it held within.

It turned out to be something not only unsuitable for a prince, but also unsuitable for children in general. He spent a minute gawking at all the ladies and how little clothing they had, before he was discovered and thrown out.

This did little to deter him. He looked into every shop at least once (so many signs...), and ended up stuffing his stomach full of peasant food and all kinds of sweets, buying his pockets full of toys and action figures, reading inappropriate books with all kinds of pictures in them, playing with children he should not have even spoken to, or being spoken by, under any normal circumstances, wasting twenty gold in gambling before someone realized he was not old enough and shooed him away, making an attempt at stealing a paper dragon, watching a kung fu street fight, trying to buy alcohol just for the heck of it - and learning a number of new and interesting words and phrases from the other patrons - and, of course, getting himself fireworks. The children he had befriended showed him all kinds of new tricks to do with them, that his parents had definitely not thought of when inventing them and would probably disapprove of if they knew him doing anything like that: things like firing them from hand, taking the contents out and combining them from a bigger blast, and even scaring the snot out of the old people by firing straight towards them, something he very much enjoyed and laughed as they ran away.

He was recognized, of course, on an occasion. Most of the time he could intimidate those into keeping quiet about it, either by threatening to tell his parents, or, in case of the wolf guard, the Boss Wolf. He considered them his friends, and his boss even more, so he appreciated the thought of concern, but he was here _incognito,_ and he would be very displeased if his cover was blown or if his evening was ended early. Some of the guards offered to join him, to escort him and make sure nothing happened, but he told them it was against the point and that he was more than capable of defending himself: "The Boss Wolf told me so!" This was always enough to have them comply and leave him alone, which he appreciated.

Once the night fell, though, most of the Gongmen inhabitants started to vanish from the streets, and Shen found himself to be slightly lost, he briefly considered rethinking that idea and finding himself someone to see him home... but only very briefly, before his confidence took hold again, and his courage got him to put one foot in front of the other, and head towards the ancestral palace in which he usually lived. At least, however lost he might have been, the tower was always visible, and as such he always had a way to go to.

It had been probably the best day in his entire life so far, and he had come nowhere near danger, or ever needed kung fu to defend himself! What was the big deal again?

With that thought fresh in his mind, to keep him happy and all the more confident, he nearly bumped into a small group of other children as they emerged from around the corner, laughing and chatting among themselves. He did not have much time to dodge, particularly since a scaly shoulder was particularly determined in colliding with him, nearly sending him to the sidewalk and prompting another burst of laughter from the group. "Watch where you're going, pipsqueak!"

The cobbled stone street avoided meeting with a peacock face, thanks to his superior training and skill which allowed him to maintain his balance and remain upright. The delinquents, in particular the crocodile that had done the shoving and insulting, seemed to take this as a victory of a sort anyway: clearly they had no kung fu training of their own, and no way to realize that he was not even inconvenienced. Instead, they had decided there was no more fun gained from him, and were turning to leave.

He counted five, all about his age or a couple years older at most, all dressed in simple peasant clothing, and all laughing and cursing like idiots. Besides the crocodile, there was a wolf, two cats (one, a female, hanging on the arm of the crocodile), and an ox. Not to be racially insensitive, but all the sort of people he had been warned about and had seen cause trouble on his prior (and guarded) visits to the city - well, except for the wolf, those he always thought to be perfectly fine. It was a dark street, almost an alley, with no one else to witness what had just happened.

Courage welled up inside Shen. One of them had just slighted him, and he would not stand for that. With that in mind, he braced himself, and before they could take a step away, got their attention back to himself: "What did you just call me?"

It did the trick. What bully could resist the temptation of picking on a little guy trying to stand up for himself, after all, particularly with his friends egging him on? The crocodile clearly did not seem very clever, and turned around with a "Huh?", before walking back to the lone kid - towering him by two heads - and patting him on the top of his head with his unoccupied arm, the kitty cat on the other one grinning wickedly. "I called you a pipsqueak, pipsqueak, because that's what you are. You hard of hearing, too?"

He had a strange accent, marking him as someone foreign to Gongmen, but considering the gang he had picked up, it did not seem to matter, and what he said got another laugh from everybody. "I think he's kinda cute!", the cat girl mocked, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "So adorably childish." Shen trembled a little, but did not back away: he had like three edges here, least of all not surprise. Instead, he smiled. "Wow, you just managed to say 'pipsqueak' right three times! Isn't it a really long and hard word too? I guess you're smarter than you look: not that it's any hard."

Quite obviously, this one did not evoke a similar burst of laughter from the audience - apart from the wolf, who was very quickly silenced by the glares everybody else gave him. The crocodile was not smiling anymore. "You callin' me stupid?" The hand previously patting him to the head moved to his chest, shoving him back: he allowed it to move him by a foot or so, and did not lose his smile nor composure. "I don't know who you are but _no one_ calls me stupid and gets away with it."

"Yeah? Well no one calls me pipsqueak." This one got a snicker out from almost everyone, apart from the crocodile himself, all involved trying to quiet down and wipe their smiles away before he would take issue with it. "How 'bout you apologise for it, and I'll let you run back to your ugly cow of a moth-"

"NO ONE insults my ma!", the crocodile roared, surprisingly enough joined in by the ox. The combined voice was enough that the peacock did actually jump another couple steps backwards. "Come on, Croc, lemme beat him up!", the ox continued, looking at the crocodile and pointing an accusing finger towards the prince incognito. "He said my ma's ugly! I'm gonna pummel his face in for that!"

"It wasn't your mother he-" The crocodile called Croc sighed. "Oh all right, I don't feel like bothering for a wimp like that anyway. You go ahead."

Shen grinned as he took his stance: this would be the perfect opportunity to test his skills. His opponent was not smiling, probably not even realizing what the other one was doing, merely snorting in anger and aiming a clumsy blow towards the opponent, less than half his size. Everybody but the peacock was thus surprised when the fist was gracefully directed elsewhere with a wing, while its owner flipped around like lightning and brought his sharp talons at the bovine. From there he jumped up and let the clumsy brute fly to the curb behind him, screaming and holding a hand over his face. "My eye! Augh, he tore out my eye, I'm bleeding!"

The claw (which had definitely not taken the entire eye: even a scar would have been an optimistic estimation) might as well have been directed at a beehive, for the commotion that ensued from this. Croc took a step back, his girl hissing, even as the wolf and the other cat cried out and approached, taking the place of their downed friend. Shen spread his tail briefly to defend himself from the wolf's attack, even as he charged at the cat and pecked him, forcing him to back off with new bruises all around his face and one hand. All the while the wolf was grabbed from the front of his shirt with a foot, almost effortlessly used to pull him forward and slam against the cat even while the peacock in between them circled away.

This was the moment when the other cat joined in, swinging a clawed hand at her opponent, who was too preoccupied with the others to expect that and got a faceful. This was the first time in his life that lord Shen felt genuine pain: it was a strangely awakening experience, though obviously he would have preferred to not feel any more. Worse still, even as he defended himself from further attacks from her part, the wolf was recovering and coming back at him, and the ox had almost picked himself up. Things were starting to look a little bleak... bleak enough to bring out his secret weapon, probably.

"Yeah, beat the snot out of him!", the crocodile called out, his smile returned, as his cronies surrounded the peacock. "He does a bit of kung fu, but it's not enough against four!"

"I agree..." And even now he was smiling, though there was a feral glint in his eye. Those claws really had hurt. "...But this is." His hand thrusted towards the cat girl even as he brought forth his final secret, one that would bring him victory. He felt his body shake as he pierced through flesh, briefly feeling her heartbeat before she backed away with a yowl, bleeding profusely. Giving them no time to react, he swung to the right, towards the ox, who took a deep cut to the arm and backed away screaming.

This had all taken a little more than a second: by this point they had figured out exactly what he was carrying, and that this was no longer a game. This was not just about teaching some kid, or a group of kids, a lesson: this had become real grown-up stuff. The hand holding the dagger kept going in a whirlwind, first at the wolf, then at the other cat, both of whom wisely backed away, the former trying to reach around to try and help the cat girl. "She's bleeding! H-help! Somebody!" With the path to him now clear, Shen took his weapon towards Croc and lunged at him...

...Only for it to bounce from him without a scratch, slip from its owner's hand, and cut him to the wrist instead as it fell down. He had half a second to watch after it, dumbfounded horror rising from his chest, before the crocodile's fist struck hard against his face. His world was replaced by black and green, piercing pain, and echoing voices from someplace far away.

"My arm! My arm's bleeding! I'm dying!" Another flash of pain against his head, cheek breaking, eye bruising shut... "Shut up! I'm trying to help Su...! Su! Don't pass out! I'm here..." Wing brought up to defend, takes one strike, two strikes... "S-somebody come over here! Help!" Cold hard stone strikes everywhere... ground? Or wall...? Something hits stomach, hard... "You little bastard, you stabbed her, I'll kill you!" Someone grabs head, slams against something hard, something else beats stomach again... "Hey, i-it's... it's the peacock kid! What's his name...?"

It took all his discipline to keep himself from passing out, focus in the face of pain unlike anything he had ever even imagined, so much worse than anything he had been put through his training... he could only open one eye, and that one eye saw a blurred vision of the crocodile and the tomcat, in an argument. The other cat was still down behind them, as was the ox, with the wolf trying to help the former... he could no longer discern what they were saying, though both sounded terrified out of their wits, and soon he was roughly dropped down, the stone curb rising up to meet him and wrap him in its cold embrace, and the last thing he saw was two other wolf shapes approaching...

* * *

><p>Passing out after losing in a fight, the first fight he had ever been in, had been a less than optimal result from his nightly adventure. He woke up in his room, on his sleeping mat: it took him several weeks to recover, spending nearly all of this time lying down, lacking the strength to even walk. But as bad as this all was, it was not even close to the worst part.<p>

His father had scolded him for what had happened. Him! He was the one that lost the fight, the one that was provoked to it in the first place! He was the one that had been slighted, and yet he was also the one taking the blame for it. He endured a long talk about how he should learn to pick his fights, how words can never hurt him and should be ignored, and how harming others shoud be avoided, particularly under an excuse such as a perceived slight. As a stale consolation, the original transgression of him running away in the first place was all but ignored: clearly they had more important things to worry about.

Even worse, he heard that the children that had assaulted him would not be punished. He demanded their heads on a platter, but instead he was told, again, that he was the one to blame and that he should have just walked away. Meanwhile, the Boss Wolf, who had given him the dagger in the first place, faced disciplinary action. That dagger had saved his life, he was certain of it, and yet the guard captain was punished? Exactly what kind of priorities did his parents have?

But possibly the worst was the Soothsayer's disappointed face. That one genuinely hurt Shen: she had been the one who had taken care of him for all these years, taught him everything he knew, not the least about kung fu, and now he had let her down. Unlike his father, she did not raise her voice, instead telling him calmly and sadly that she should never have taught him martial arts, that he clearly was not as ready as she had thought. She told him that they should wait for a little longer, that she should pay extra attention to his discipline and compassion, before she could teach him more.

But this was fine with Shen. For he had learned one last thing about the experience: he had learned that his opinion about kung fu had been vastly bloated and exaggerated. It did help him defend himself, yes, initially. But none of those five knew any of it, and yet they defeated him anyway. And what was it that brought him the final edge, the one that nearly gave him victory? It was the Boss Wolf's dagger. A weapon.

What could bare hands do if one was facing a sword? The wolf guard all had blades, axes, and bows: it was clear to him now that they could do so much more than mere kung fu would ever manage. The antelopes, meanwhile, had both kung fu _and_ weapons, and even though the former was clearly a powerful asset in helping them defend his parents, it was the latter that was the true source of their strength. Steel and iron were stronger than flesh, and they would prevail over everything. They would end kung fu.

He had plenty of time to think while he recovered from his injuries, and besides this newfound philosophy, he found his mind often drifting to those children, directing fireworks down to scare other people...

* * *

><p>Shen was sixteen years old when he found the ultimate source of power. He had spent several nights taking black powder away from the storages, with the help of the wolves, and collect them all in the same pile next to a large testing ground outside the palace, in an abandoned storage building separate from the rest. He lit the fuse from a good distance away, and waited.<p>

He thought he had been far enough, but the blast threw him off his feet anyway. And when he got back up, and the smoke cleared to display what was left of the building, and the wooden rubble thrown hundreds of feet away... he smiled. This was a power well beyond any weapon, any sword or bow, let alone kung fu. This was a power he could destroy the world with, should the whim strike him.

This was a power he would use to make his parents proud.

* * *

><p>Shen was seventeen years old when he heard the future told by the Soothsayer, and knew that the time had come.<p>

* * *

><p>Shen was fourty-five years old when he returned to claim back what was rightfully his... and to have an unexpected encounter with someone from long ago.<p>

"So, it is _Master_ Croc now, hmm...?", he mocked, standing outside the cell of the defeated master, feeling more jovial than he had felt in decades. "Did you think it would help you to punch people better? Ha! How deliciously ironic: our last encounter taught me that kung fu was useless, pointed me at the real source of power... and you, you who saw the exact same thing..." He was holding back laughter. "...Actually picked up kung fu instead! An ancient, outdated art, useless in front of progress and industry..."

"And what do you know of kung fu, Shen?", the crocodile responded scathingly. "You are still the same child from before. You haven't grown up at all."

This time the peacock did laugh. "What is there to know? Did that whatever help you defeat me and my cannon? Did it save Master Thundering Rhino's life, and lead you all to drive me away? Could it even get you out of this cell and face me again? No? Then what value could it possibly have? How could it face a cannon?"

Master Croc snorted. "It is a powerful thing, your cannon... maybe you can conquer China with it. But it is your reflection: cold, heartless, and so very foolish. It knows only how to destroy. That will not be enough to kill kung fu. And if you cannot kill kung fu, you will never conquer our hearts, and you will fall."

"You are delusional," Shen smiled, as he began to walk away, to observe the creation of more weaponry. "Like I said, if it cannot help you now, then kung fu is pointless."

"It is helping me," Croc stated mysteriously, but Shen did not stop to ask any more of this. It was clear to him that the ex-delinquent was still the very same stupid himself. The Soothsayer disagreed, however:

"You should listen to him, Shen. This is a war you cannot win."

He chuckled, the iron claws clattering against the floor as he walked. "Don't you start, too. Kung fu is dying already, and my cannon will give it the blow it cannot survive from."

She merely sighed and shook her head, looking away sadly. "I tried to teach you about it so many times. I tried to tell you the difference between _kung fu_ and _martial arts:_ you keep talking about the latter, yet you think you mean the former."

"What's even the difference, you old goat?" Shen thought they had had this discussion before in his life, but damned if he could remember.

"Martial arts is just that: martial arts. Kung fu, meanwhile, means Excellence of Self, which counts under it so many other things than simply learning to defend yourself," she explained in a strained, tired voice. "It will teach you patience, compassion, confidence, courage, discipline, and so many other lessons that will serve you well in life. It still can, if you wished to learn them."

He said nothing, merely looked at his wolves, barking some orders to a few handling black powder barrels. She continued on: "As long as people keep driving themselves to a greater value of self, as long as they keep searching for enlightenment and inner peace, as long as they strive to be the masters of something, _anything_... kung fu will prevail. It is only when you can take these things away, and no earlier, when kung fu dies."

"Those things have no meaning...", Shen told her bitterly. "Perhaps once I thought that they did. Perhaps once I was looking for something else... but no longer. I know better. I know what I want now, and I will take it."

She had nothing more to add to it. But he thought he heard a sniffle from his right.

* * *

><p>Shen had been a fool.<p>

He fought to the last, even when he had begun doubting it, even when he had started to think that maybe, just maybe, it might not be worth it after all. Maybe there was nothing that could have satisfied him. Maybe Croc and the Soothsayer were right, and kung fu _was_ unkillable. It would have taken him the rest of his life to develop technology comparable to what that panda had just done, and even then it would have been nothing but a clumsy, vastly inferior attempt.

When he heard the creak behind him, saw his arch-nemesis hesitate and back away, and looked up to see his own creation falling down on him... he did not even try to dodge anymore. He was so very tired. So, he merely closed his eyes, and let his life flash before them.

Remembering it all hurt him. Remembering the foolish things he had done, starting from that knife and ending with the pandas, the estrangement from his family, everything he had blamed on someone else... he realized that it was always him, that all the suffering in his life was his own fault. Somehow, understanding this made him feel calmer about everything, that it was not just a cruel twist of fate: he had brought this upon himself, his own ruin, just like the Soothsayer had warned... and all was right and good in the universe after all.

And so, with the very final breath of his life, Lord Shen achieved inner peace.


End file.
